


Do me the    honour?

by catsforlivvy



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas fic, Gen, Gift Giving, Secret Santa, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 14:05:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13148226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsforlivvy/pseuds/catsforlivvy
Summary: A Christmas fic. Short, kind of sweet, and quite late to the party. Enjoy!





	Do me the    honour?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [her_royal_shyness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/her_royal_shyness/gifts).



Steve. Tony crossed his arms over his chest. _Steve_. He lifted a hand and placed it on his chin, looking remarkably like a bulldog with jowls hanging past its mouth. **_Steve_**.

Friday was keeping tabs open wherever Tony twisted and turned and paced. Were it anyone but Tony, this rapid switching would be dizzying in it’s rapidity. Were it anyone but Tony, they would have figured something out long ago.

“Secret _fucking_ Santa Friday!” He shouted. “Secret fucking Santa and who do I have to get? _Fucking_ Steve! I think fate has it out for me, I really do.” She stayed silent.

“And now of course I have to not be bitter about the whole...” he paused, thinking “ _business_ between muzzle muscles and I.” Friday was still silent. “Of course I could just get him something regular. Some ridiculously extravagant gift that he ‘could never _possibly_ accept Tony really it’s _too much_ ’, something like that?” He summoned the tabs full of gifts exactly like that, then quickly swiped them away.

“No, you’re right it’s a bit too much. Too impersonal. I get those gifts for people I don’t like not people I’m supposed to be friends with. Huh. Friends. Now there’s a concept. No but you’re right it needs to be something I’ve actually _thought_ about you know? Something that seems like it was picked for him by me not by some random assistant who spent 20 minutes clicking around on Facebook.”

He gasped suddenly. “Oh Friday you are so bad, really why do I keep you around? I got it all by myself and for all your lip you were no help _miss_.” He said. This whole time, Friday had not said a word. The AI seemed amused, in as much capacity as an AI can seem amused. He dismissed all the web pages with a flick of his wrist. “Friday, I’m taking a trip.” He said. “Excellent sir, shall I call Happy? Or shall I have one of your cars sent to the ground level garage?” She asked. “I need to do this on my own, get me something classy.” He replied.

* * *

 

A small crowd of people were already gathered around the tree. Pepper walked in, heels tapping monotonously on the tile. She walked up to the tree, placed a small box beneath it, then silently retreated. The rest took their cues that there was no need to wait.

For the most part, the exchange went smoothly. Everyone was almost sure the two spies had cheated once it was revealed they both had each other, and everyone had to look away rather suddenly when they saw the two gifts left beneath the tree - Peter’s poorly wrapped gift for Tony, and Tony’s exquisitely wrapped gift for Steve.

Peter went to go retrieve his, before a hand lashed out to grab his wrist. Natasha looked him dead in the eyes and pulled him towards the couch she and Clint were perched on, to which he nodded gratefully.

And so, as it turned out, all that was really left was for Steve to go up and take his present from Tony. He turned the box around in his hands deliberately. He was not aware of it, but everyone was staring intently at him, waiting for his next move. He opened it carefully, peeling back the paper, his mother’s voice ringing in his ears “waste not want not” she would say, and fold the paper for another use.

He opened up the box, and sat there, wrapped and placed oh-so carefully, was a Purple Heart. It looked dusty, but pristine, as if it had never seen the light of day beyond this box. There was a note card inside, which Steve began to read aloud.

“Steve,

I dug around in my dad’s old stuff and found this. It was supposed to be yours, and now it is.

Tony.”

Steve closed the note, put it back in the box, and stood up, only to stride out of the room. He appeared at the entrance to Tony’s lab, box in hand, trailing more than a few Avengers. Tony looked up, saw the gift in his hands, and looked worried. Was he here to return it? To throw it back in his face?

Steve smiled a little, and held the badge out to him, allowing him to take it so he could return his hand to his side and puff out his chest. “Tony,” he said “would you do me the honour?”


End file.
